My Paper Planes 
by Kenneth Wee

These planes I fly for you today.
I meant to fly some everyday,
But there was always homework,
And a thousand other things:
My planes are broken birds with pinioned wings.

I remember your planes swirling with grace,
Dancing to your bubbling laughter's pace,
Lifted by your capers and your smiling face;
You loved to give life to phoenixes galore
And fling them off tower blocks, watch them soar
In defiance of every earthly law.

I regret now not joining you,
Siding with Mom when you set free
Earthbound homework into dreams that flew;
I asked you to grow up, face the world,
But I didn't actually expect to see,
Didn't expect you to follow your planes onto the brutal road.

I've thrown away my last one now.
I hope the wind will lift its wings to you,
And you can judge how well
I've tried to make my planes!
If only my spirit could be airborne like yours was...
I suppose you're happier now,
Riding on your imagination's flight,
Away from the dull earth you understood better
Than I do.

Poor pieces of paper
Are all I have left of you.